


Push and Pull, Give and Take

by Apricots_from_Nara



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Beating, Canonical Character Death, It's Almost Love, M/M, Mnemosurgery, Movement Disorder, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-09 22:24:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13491039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apricots_from_Nara/pseuds/Apricots_from_Nara
Summary: It was never going to be a happy ending. Overlord always knew that. Even when he started to care about the ending, it was inevitable, one way or another.





	1. How it Started

**Author's Note:**

> If you are wondering what happened to 'Pitiful' it was deleted and it will be chapter two of this story. =)

“You want me to teach you?”

Overlord loomed over his prize, away from the eyes of Starscream and Soundwave, Overlord could now set in motion his plans. The goal, beat Megatron.

“Yes. And if you refuse, you will be in for hell.”

“No I won’t.”

Overlord faltered as Trepan looked him dead in the optic, face impassive. Overlord loomed more. fist slamming into the wall Trepan was trapped against. “Yes you will.” he grabbed Trepan’s arm and squeezed.

“A torture victim does not make for a good teacher. A prisoner does not either. Those who are scared do stupid things.” Trepan looked to his arm, the metal creaking, “And of course... if you hurt me. I could very well lose the ability to even do mnemosurgery.”

Overlord let his arm go, scowling.

“You know that of course. But you hoped to scare me. Hoped I would be like the Senators or a pampered doctor... Willing to cry and beg for their lives. I’m not like Proteus.”

“You’re not scared to die? To be hurt?”

Trepan smiled. “As my teacher Sunder said, it's hard to be scared when your work makes you look death in the eye everyday. Harder to fear pain when you feel the pain and terror of those you work on as you take it all away.”

Trepan looked at his servotips, smug. Overlord boiled with rage, though he had to admire how Trepan knew so much of the situation, and how he had no fear.

“So will you not teach me?”

“Well... Lets see why you want to learn.”

Overlord blinked, and then he felt it, a sharp pain in his side. He looked down, and the servos of Trepan’s other hand were buried into his hip.

“You bigger bots have such big gaps. makes it easy to Inject. And I’m the best there is. I can inject anywhere.”

He could not move, and he could feel Trepan in his head. See him there. His face in every memory and thought. His grin was smug and playful.

“Oh... Who would of thought someone like you was so terrified...” the grin morphed into a sick sadistic sneer.

Overlord grit his teeth, trying to repel Trepan all he could. But Trepan slipped past his mental blocks. “Get out....”

“But what are you afraid of, Overlord?”

“... Stop it.”

Massive and tall, a form loomed over him, no weapons were needed to subdue him effortlessly. Chained him down. Always won. Red eyes that never once looked at him with recognition...

“You fear losing... Because of Megatron. You want to finally defeat him.” Overlord vaguely felt that Trepan was pleased by this.

“Get out!”

Trepan made the strangest sound, and he pulled his hand away. He held his head, and chuckled. “That was your first lesson.”

Overlord grabbed him, shaking and wide eyed. The fear just under the surface, no longer buried. “How dare you... What kind of lesson was that?!”

“Now you can repel someone from your mind... Keep them from overwhelming you. The first key is to be able to keep yourself from getting lost in the sea of thoughts. If you can force me out, even for a moment...”

Trepan took Overlord’s face in his hands, and smiled. “You will be a wonderful student, I can tell.”

Overlord’s spark spun a little faster. Trepan sounded genuine. Not like Megatron. His fear abated. “What will you need?”

Trepan let his face go, rubbing his chin in thought. “I will think it over. Then make a list. Now, show me to my room?”

Overlord wondered why Trepan agreed, though he did not care if it was some ulterior motive. He had what he wanted.


	2. The Time He Came to Care

Overlord came home in a flurry. He was not angry, just eager. “Trepan, inject me again. I need more training.”

It had been a long battle. Too long. Shockwave had created a virus to finally end it and bring them victory.

Overlord was immune. All Phase Sixers were, their frames so enhanced it could barely make them falter. They distributed it, and they picked off what was left. They were cleaned, and allowed back among the other decepticons. He had to get back to learning as fast as possible after all.

Trepan looked up at him, mildly annoyed. “Must I inject? You know how to turn the tables now. No sense in making me-”

“Just do it. This is the last time I will need to.”

Trepan grimaced but finally relented. “Fine. Bend over. I’ll go through the neck.

The connection was more intense. Trepan using all ten of his servos to inject. However, Overlord soon got out of the loop Trepan had set. It was easy… one hundred and fifty years made for a good amount of memories to turn on the other.

Trepan was soon being pulled along for a swirling ride of gore, Overlord just for kicks doing all he could to bewilder Trepan and keep him there. Trepan however pulled out easily enough, making a disgusted sound once the needles were retracted. “There. You did it. No more.”

“No more. For now.”

Trepan frowned at him. More like a pout really… Cute almost. 

Trepan soon waved Overlord off. He was tired and wanted to sleep. Overlord let him. Trepan was cranky when tired.

\---

He had not been scrubbed enough apparently.

Overlord paced, agitated as his hands clenched and unclenched. Trepan lay in his designated room. It was plain and had no window, so Overlord could in theory lock him in and make him lose sense of time if he pleased.

He never had. 

Trepan had a way of talking that confused him. Overlord threats were often twisted around and in the end Overlord was often waving Trepan away so he could collect himself and think straight.

It got Trepan out of a lot. Though Trepan never used it enough to make Overlord truly enraged. That was all part of this partnership. Push and pull. Give and take. Trepan was able to keep the lessons coming slowly, though Trepan enforced it could be five centuries, or even more, for Overlord to learn enough to be actually good.

Such a perfect little manipulator. He had never met someone with such a cleaver glossa.

Trepan’s way with words could not help him now, though. He was just like those autobots on the battlefield, barely able to function as the viruses ravaged their frames.

It was not lethal per say. It weakened those it infected. But Trepan was not sturdy. Not even just because of his frame type, but his work left him weak.

Trepan had always been weak in his time with Overlord. Delicate metal plating easily crushed, a weak easily exhausted constitution, and a slight constant tremor.

“Comes with the work.” Trepan had said once, holding out his hands and admiring his needles. While his legs and head shook ever so subtly, his hands stayed steady. “If the injection doesn’t get you, you go insane, or your processor breaks down. My teacher went insane. I’m breaking down.”

He had asked Trepan which he would of preferred, and Trepan had never answered. 

Now it seemed neither injection, insanity, or processor degradation would get him. No it was a virus.

Trepan convulsed. Overlord knew because he could hear it. violent bleeping and sputtering as his vocalizer spasmed, his frame clanking on his berth. Overlord grit his denta and continued pacing. Unable to do anything.

He was weak. He was powerless. He was losing.

Panic set in a moment. He could not loose. He refused. Trepan would not be taken from him. It had been only one hundred and fifty years, he had barely learned anything.

Trepan was like his pet now. A pet that could talk back and slap him. But all pets were a little willful.

He took a few deep vents, finally entering Trepan’s room. He had left Trepan alone mostly, only coming in to feed him energon so he could rest. But Trepan was not getting better.

He was also not getting worse, however. Surely he just needed a little help.

Overlord pulled a chair in, seeing himself at Trepan’s berthside and putting a large hand over his head. Trepan’s optics opened, his optics flickering. They rolled in his helm before settling on Overlord, lenses contracting to focus on him.

How pitiful.

The Phase Sixer didn't know how to help him. He had never cared for something ill. He had never cared when something fell ill. But he was caring. Trepan was his teacher, his pet. Something to look forward to when he returned.

“I should just put you out of your misery.” Overlord said, a large thumb rubbing Trepan’s cheek. He squeezed his hand once, and Trepan blinked slowly, before closing his optics and seeming to relax.

Despite the ‘threat’, Trepan settled. The convulsions had passed, and all that was left was the tremors in his head and legs. He smiled. A sly little grin that said

_But you won’t._

Overlord rested his chin on his other hand, watching as Trepan went back to resting. How funny that Trepan was so confident that Overlord would not hurt him. Overlord almost wanted to teach him a lesson. It would be so easy to crush his soft helm.

Overlord removed his hand and simply watched. “If you need anything tell me.”

Trepan opened his mouth, voice seizing a moment. “How... Gen-er-ous.”

His voice had the tremor now too. Overlord hopped this would not worsen them.... if the Tremor moved to his hands... Overlord banished the thought.

“Sleep. I’ll wake you up in a few hours to refuel.”


	3. First Time They Kissed

Three hundred years.... Had it really been that long? Sure to anyone else that was nothing, but Overlord was not one to keep others this close to him for more then a decade at a time. So to him, this was a long time.

Overlord watched as Trepan spoke, hands elegantly moving to emphasize what he said. Such a stark contrast to his head, which now had a noticeable tremor, and his legs, which now made his walking jerky.

Trepan had told him some time ago Soundwave was going to be his last injection. He had been planning to retire and pass the torch on to ‘Chromedome’ and become an actual doctor. Overlord did not know who Chromedome was, perhaps the bot he shot all that time ago?

Bottomline, that had been Trepan’s way of telling him that Overlord was pushing him closer and closer to his grave. Ever time Overlord made him inject into a living bot as a demonstration.... he was killing Trepan slowly.

Overlord killed that train of thought and just kept watching. Not listening really. Trepan was just repeating himself, make it last longer. So now he could just watch.

He honestly did have lovely hands. Lovely face... Lovely everything. Such a shame...

Overlord’s optics narrowed. He had had Trepan much too long. These feelings he had... How troublesome.

Overlord sat up finally. “You are repeating yourself. Get to the next part Trepan. I’m bored.”

Trepan stopped what he was doing, frowning at Overlord. However he nodded. “You are bored… Alright then. Thinly veiled threat received and noted.”

Trepan took out a few things, his hands transforming into tools. “Lets see your hands.”

One by one, Trepan installed his needles. Overlord had to pull several favors to get them, and not have anyone important notice. They were longer, much much longer then Trepan’s yet they ended much the same way his did. Same size, same grooves.

Trepan ran his servos over them, and Overlord shuddered. “Good. you feel them. Now retract them.”

Overlord obeyed, and after a bit of work, he pulled them in. He flexed his servos a few times for good measure. All seemed fine.

Trepan produced him a processor. “This is a blank slate. No thoughts, no memories to get lost in. This is all about perfecting the injection, not that it matters. These needles only feel, nothing else..” He took the much larger hands into his own and showed them where to rest.

“Slide them in slowly.”

Trepan’s hands, steady as a those of someone dead, rested on his own, slowly guiding him. It was not an actual injection Overlord realized. These needles had no connections to his processor. But he could feel it in his needles.

It felt strange. 

“Now feel for the right grooves, and when needle clicks into place, stop moving that finger.” Trepan jerked slightly, the tremors in his legs acting up, yet his hands remained motionless. How did he keep them so still?

“Pay attention. If you are to distracted you will miss the click, and your patient is dead.”

“I don’t intend for Shockwave to survive.” Overlord said smugly, and Trepan looked at him, his head bobbing like he was nodding yes to a question.

“Then you will damage it and you won't be able to get anything.”

Overlord looked back down, and slid his needles in more.

A click. He stop moving his thumb... Two next. He stopped his pinky and middle servo... Soon all of them clicked into place.

“Very good. You got them all in the first time with no damage. Who knew you could be so gentle...”

Trepan always gave him praise. ‘Good work’. ‘Very good’. Little things that made Overlord fonder and fonder.

“Trepan?”

Trepan looked up, and Overlord leaned in. His lips, almost too big, pressing to the other’s.

Soft. Simple. Sweet. He had never kissed like that before, but he didn’t want to scare him away. Trepan didn’t move away, and simply remained still. When Overlord pulled away, Trepan’ mouth spread into a sly grin.

“Oh my. What a sweet gift...” His voice was sickly sweet, “But you killed them.”

Overlord looked down, cranial fluids leaking over his servos.

Trepan pulled his hands away, face blank now. “Maybe I’m too much of a distraction. You need someone new.”

“There is no one else I want.”

“Then maybe keep it under control until after the lesson?”

Overlord grinned and leaned in again. Trepan met him halfway. Overlord wanted to know what he tasted like.

He withdrew from the dummy processor, hands grasping Trepan’s shoulders. He held him close and still as he showed Trepan just how much he had come to like him. A kiss much more ‘Overlord’. Trepan kissed him back, his mouth opening first, and Overlord could not help but push his glossa, a weapon in of itself, inside it. Past it even.

No resistance. Trepan took the intrusion in his throat, his body wobbling as the tremors in his legs grew more intense. Overlord pulled away and Trepan only coughed once, glassy eyed.

“Oh my... That is quite the glossa.”

Overlord picked the other up. Carrying him to his room. “I want you to share a berth with me from now on.”

“How cute.” was all Trepan said, sighing as Overlord kissed at his neck.


	4. His first Regret

Trepan was the cute one.

How he shook as Overlord kissed him. Apparently his tremors grew worse when he was emotional or stressed. As unfortunate as they were... Overlord could not help but find it cute.

Like now, Trepan’s whole frame seemed to jerk as Overlord’s servo moved. Slow small circles on his outer node. Trepan’s legs shook, spread wide apart as he grasped at Overlord’s shoulders.

“Kiss me.

Overlord obeyed. Kissing him slowly, servo sliding down and in the little valve. Normally Overlord loathed prepping his partners, even willing ones. But Trepan was special. Plus, he was easy to prepare, his body building a charge faster than most.

Overlord pressed up, rubbing firmly. His whole servo filled Trepan’s valve perfectly, all the way to the end. Trepan’s back arched as he rubbed, and Overlord pulled away and sat up, so he could just watch.

Trepan covered his face with his arms. Such a shy mech. Overlord rubbed faster, and the dome over Trepan’s chest began to glow brighter. His spark had already developed a good charge.

“Overloading already?” Overlord pushed his servo in deeper and Trepan made the most lovely cry, cumming on his hand. Overlord then pressed up, pressing through his valve onto his transfluid tank, rubbing it until Trepan’s spike spurt transfluid onto his stomach.

“Stop teasing me...” Trepan hissed, pouting at Overlord through his servos.

“You know very well I need to prep you, pet.”

“A-a day is hardly enough for my valve to reset. I’m ready.” Trepan tilted his head, “Stupid brute... you can't just keep fragging me all the time. How will I teach you anything?”

Overlord smiled. “You are just too cute to ignore.” his panel clicked open, spike in hand. Trepan lifted his hips, slim, deadly fingers spreading himself open.

“Besides... You complain, but you never tell me no.”

“Well next time, it's a no.”

Overlord smirked, smug as he watched Trepan’s face as he slid inside. Determination morphed to one of bliss, and finally euphoria as his spike bottomed out. Despite the difference in size, Trepan could take him all.

Utterly impressive, to say the least.

He braced his hands on the bed, Trepan’s back arched as his hips lay on his thighs. Awkward, and if it went too long, it made Trepan’s neck and upper back sore. But like this Overlord could watch his face, and the angle of his thrusts...

It was a sacrifice Trepan was willing to make.

All it took was a few thrusts, and Trepan twisted, cumming, making Overlord’s hips wet with how strong it was. His hands pressed to Overlord’s chassis. pushing him away. Always a bit to much for him to handle the first few times. Overlord was just so big.

It was not pain though. It just felt too good. Probably why Trepan found it hard to say no. Like Overlord he was morally decadent. They both now knew that they were a perfect match. Both nasty sadistic mechs who loved to bask in their work. Though, Overlord still out classed him.

The room glowed yellow form Trepan’s spark, bright under the glass dome. Another overload shook him, his face blissed out and glassy. Overlord paused a moment, letting Trepan just rest.

Trepan’s legs clanked and shook, and Overlord did his best to not think about how bad the tremors were getting, even out side interfacing.

He was.... He really was...

“Hey....”

Overlord blinked slowly, Trepan’s hands holding his face.

“Don’t look so sad. It does not suit you. Whatever your thinking about, it’s not worth it.” Trepan grinned smugly, “Overload inside your teacher, Overlord, and forget about it.”

He did as Trepan told him. He forgot about his troubles, for the moment at least, thrusting deeper inside him until Trepan was wailing in delight.

Overlord knew he would ever be able to possess all of Trepan, like he so often wanted from the few others he had gotten this fond of. He knew well Trepan’s spark would never be able to meld with his. They could never spark merge, as Trepan’s spark would be damaged, even stuffed out by his own. The could never be more than this.

And he knew Trepan would die.


	5. The Inevitable End

Trepan’s walking had devolved to hobbling. Nearly five hundred years and he had degraded so quickly. Had Overlord really made Trepan inject that much?

Trepan assured him he had already been near the end of it. It was inevitable now. Even if he stopped now it would just get worse. Might as well just keep going.

That didn't make Overlord feel better. If Trepan could of, at one point, stopped and lived without getting worse.... he pushed Trepan past that.

He didn't **love** Trepan. But he didn't want to be without him. He had gotten too used to coming back with him there. Too used to sharing a berth with him.

“It’s almo-ost done.” Trepan said, his voice now having the tremor too. “Bring someone to me when you get back. And you ca-an inject.”

“Could i give you a new processor?” Overlord asked, “I know how to do it. Swap them. I can do a memory wipe and transfer your memories over. Put it in...”

Trepan raised a brow.

“It was.... I was just wanting to see what would happen. A little experiment from a while ago.”

It had been back before he had cared that Trepan would ultimately die. It had indeed just been him having fun and seeing what he could do. Megatron had found his experiments interesting, and he had expressed to him his confusion as to how Overlord had learned so much about the processor.

“Wha-at happened?”

“They... Ah... Died.”

“Rossum’s Tri-trinity is delicate... You do-on’t have the skill for something like tha-at... Pharma would have, tho-ough.” It was all Trepan said, and Overlord dropped it.

Trepan had been focusing on his hands a good deal before he left. Flexing them and looking at them. His optics had a hollow look to them.

Overlord knew why. But did not question it. A little shaking… That was fine. Overlord didn’t need Trepan to inject anymore. He could handle it.

He had never thought much of what to do with Trepan once his ‘purpose’ was over. But Overlord now knew that at least he would keep Trepan around until he finally passed.

Overlord was sure to kiss him goodbye, and whisper a promise to come back quickly. Hold him close. Trepan needed that right now. Trepan always needed coddling when upset.

An estimated three year excursion. As always, he had no plans to make contact with Trepan, too keep suspicion off him.

\---

Megatron summoned him a year into his excursion. It was no training exercise. Megatron had stopped those ever since his upgrade. 

It was practically torture. Megatron just beat him down, with Overlord unable to stop him. He could not, the virus keeping him from making any meaningful blow.

Megatron was furious. It was etched on his face. Finally he slammed his peds onto Overlord’s left hand.

“Show them to me.”

Overlord looked up, his lip split and bleeding heavily. He knew what he meant, but he played dumb. “I don’t-”

Megatron punched him hard in the face, though the damage was superficial, thanks to his ununtrium skeleton.

“Show them to me, now! I know you have been harboring him!”

Overlord looked down and let his needles out. Megatron recoiled like something spit acid at him, stepping away. “Starscream get those vile things off of him.”

The seeker did as told. His thrusters coming down and stomping on Overlord’s servos until each needle had snapped off. It hurt, to the point Overlord purged his tanks.

Trepan had connected them to his processor ahead of time for the final lesson. He had no idea that would of made it hurt that much.

Megatron had collected himself by then, wiping his hands off. “I give you everything you could of wanted. I made you my general, I upgraded you. And this is how you repay me... By falling for his lies. No matter. It’s dealt with.”

Overlord dug his servos into the metal floor. Nothing about Trepan was a lie. Yes, he had long ago suspected ulterior motives. But Trepan had never moved to do anything against him. If anything, Trepan wanted Megatron defeated just as much as he did. “Dealt with...” he echoed.

“Yes. I sent Deadlock to clean up the mess. Though it was more like a mercy killing I hear. Barely worth it..” Megatron snorted, waving him off, “Get out of my sight and go back to work. As for you Starscream...”

Starscream screeched angrily as Megatron approached him. “Wh-What did I do?!”

Overlord got up and left, Megatron now venting his rage onto Starscream, probably for never mentioning the ‘souvenir’ he had let Overlord take home those five hundred years ago.

He sat as a Decepticon medic repaired him. They tutted at what was left of his needles. “What do you want me to do with these?”

Overlord thought a moment. Finally answering after a few minutes. “Put in drills.”


	6. The Final Straw

Overlord never wanted to be a General. He never wanted to be upgraded. He had just wanted to fight. He just wanted Megatron to be crushed under his heel, and long before that, he just wanted Megatron to praise him.

_He just wanted Trepan._

He never went back to his base. He had no idea what he would come back to. A clean home with no one there? A murder scene with Trepan’s corpse laid out for him?

Neither one was palatable. He would rather his last memory of that place be one where Trepan was there.

With each year he grew more bitter. More loathsome of Megatron. 

And now Megatron yet again was taking away what he wanted. First his ability to defeat him, then Trepan, and now it seemed like Megatron wanted his freedom on the battlefield too. If he was a Phase Sixer…. No more battles where he could do as he wished to the enemy. No more refinements to his trade.

“And what if, unlike these two, I aspire to be more than your little pet warhead?”

“Then you have two options, Overlord.” Megatron said to him, calm as could be, “Option one... You do as I say. Option two. You don't.”

Megatron’s hologram leaned closer to him.

“And with option two I hunt you down and tear you limb from limb. So what’s it going to be?”

Perhaps if he had never met Trepan, things would of been different. Maybe he would of settled in well as a Phase Sixer.

But knowing Megatron yet again was trying to take something from him. Would never let him have what he actually wanted. Never cared enough to consider his wanted...

It was not a hard choice to make.

Besides, there were other ways to get what he wanted out of Megatron.


End file.
